it's 6.30pm on a wednesday evening and i'm practically chomping at the bit i'm so starving. turning left out of tottenham court road tube, i get caught in a gridlocked pack of tourists and i have a strong urge to punch a particularly snail-paced, camera-clutching sightseer in the back of the head. i'm approaching barrafina and as i wind through soho square i grow panicked at the thought of not eating for the next hour because, without exception, every single review i've read of this frith street gastro-haven has detailed the eternal wait for a coveted stool at the l-shaped counter. you linger within tantalising sniffing distance from the iberican offerings for at least an hour, if not longer. it is to my great surprise, therefore, that when b and i turn up, there are two shiny, leather-topped bar stools with our names practically etched into them.
we practically leapfrogged onto them to secure what felt like thrones at the altar of spanish 'food of the gods'. first mission accomplished, with far more ease than anticipated. but how lucky we were; i do not exaggerate when i say that a mere ten minutes after we sat down, there was a queue of people pressed up against the wall and snaking out into the street. you have been warned... arrive at six thirty and no later.
the menu is a well-balanced combination of spanish tapas classics (pan con tomate, solomillo de ternera and pluma iberica with confit potatoes) and a couple of lesser known options (grilled quail with ali-i-oli and lamb sweetbreads). paired with the specials menu which boasts fresh fish and pork belly, you'd be hard pushed to lodge a complaint here. we start with a couple of croquetas de jamon - my absolute favourite when i was living in madrid - and happily chatted away as the waitress poured the wine.
then came the gambas al ajillo which where pretty heavenly if you don't mind peeling them yourself.
b ordered us the ham and spinach tortilla, which was cooked in a perfectly formed tiny frying pan and was reassuringly crisp on the outside, and deliciously gooey on the inside.
your whole dining experience is a show and you have front row seats. the chefs are the actors, overwhelmingly confident on the stage that is the open kitchen. you are given a peek into the implements they use, the secrets to their techniques and above all you witness their dedication to each individual dish. they quite rightly take pride in their creations as they present them to you with one final flourish.
the chorizo and potatoes are the flavours of spain through and through. in fact, just a single glance at the menu sends me right back to spain, what with the scattering of jerez (sherry) and spanish vino tinto (red wine) to accompany your iberican nourishment.
now for a dish which didn't tempt b but i just couldn't resist. a house favourite and very popular choice among regulars here, the tuna tartar is served with a 'quenelle' of guacamole (you know you've been watching too much masterchef when you know the word 'quenelle') which is a genius combination.
we decided to dip into the specials and try the skate wing and we were rewarded for going off-piste. topped with pine nuts and baby basil, the cut yielded a very decent amount of meaty fish and the sweet sauce which came with it sang with flavour.
as we came to the end of our meal, it was becoming increasingly evident that barrafina is the perfect modern tapas bar. owners sam and eddie hart, the creators of fino in fitzrovia, returned to london from spain in 2002 and quite clearly brought with them a full repertoire of skills and inspiration. barrafina opend in 2007 as a homage to cal pep in barcelona which had been the brothers' favourite restaurant.
wallet damage: £40 for 6 plates to share and wine
ambience: suitable for those who don't mind noise and uncomfortable stools
reservations: none - too cool for school